


A Change of Scenery

by alesca_munroe



Series: Barrow's Coffee Shop AU [4]
Category: Unseen - Long Story Short Productions (Podcast)
Genre: Fire fire everywhere, Gen, Siblings, Starting Over, does it count as found family if you're technically related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29478606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alesca_munroe/pseuds/alesca_munroe
Summary: How Steven Winstead comes to live with Addison.  Well, with both the twins, really; Edmond is over there often enough
Series: Barrow's Coffee Shop AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120031
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	A Change of Scenery

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for suffering the neverending coffee shop au. I promise I have other things in the works.
> 
> To anyone who is actually *from* Looneyville, I make my apologies. I'm sure yours is a very nice town.

Steven Winstead is a mess and he knows it. He doesn't know how Rose does it, how she can possibly be content in Looneyville fucking West Virginia when it's so small and small-minded and can't handle anything that doesn't fit in their small fucking worldview. Somehow she fits herself into their little boxes and she's _ fine _ with it. Steven can't. He doesn't fit. He tried and he hated it and he doesn't want to ever fit himself into those boxes ever again.

So he set fires. He set fires and he finally felt in control of  _ something _ for the first time since he realized that marrying a local girl and starting a family and staying in Looneyville until he died of old age or boredom wasn't what he wanted. He doesn't want it, doesn't think he ever wanted it, and doesn't know how to get away from this place.

So until he figures it out, stuff is just going to have to burn.

\---

People keep telling him how lucky he is that he didn't burn the whole house down. That Rose called the fire department so fast, that _ no one was hurt _ , which is the only reason he's not in jail right now.

The guy who shows up twelve hours after the porch stops burning, though.  _ That _ guy is definitely a cop of some kind. He almost looks familiar, but he doesn't sound local.

"Did you start the fire?" the man asks as he looks at the charred wood.

"It wasn't supposed to get that big," Steven says and he's tired, _ tired _ , of having to tell people that. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He's not looking to become that kind of person, but he can't be who he is and burning things is the closest he gets to  _ okay _ these days. He just wants them to _ see _ .

The man hums thoughtfully. "Initial guess, based on the tins of varnish in the bin around the corner, it wasn't quite dry yet when you lit the match."

Steven bolts. He has to, he can't be here for this, for this asshole just dissecting what happened, like he knows anything at all. Steven can't handle another person talking to him about consequences and choices and how they could try him as an adult-

"Steven, wait!" the man calls and, oh shit, he's been following Steven this whole time. He grabs Steven's arm.

Steven doesn't think. It's the story of his life, really. He doesn't think, just lifts the lighter and clicks it.

There's a faulty gas pump at Mabel's down the road. Unless you hold it just right, your whole sleeve and probably half the rest of your clothing gets a sprinkle of gasoline all over you. And if you're in a rush, you might not notice the damp on your clothes, the smell. If you're stressed and upset and your childhood home smells like wet, burned wood, you might not notice the smell on someone else.

Steven clicks the lighter and the man's suit jacket bursts into flames. Steven draws back, too horrified to breathe, let alone shout for help.  _ Lucky no one had been hurt _ , that's what everyone said about the porch fire. Well, Steven has just condemned a man to burning alive-

Except the man doesn't. He whips the jacket off, dropping it on the gravel and stamping out the flames without so much as swearing or shouting. Within thirty seconds, the fire is out.

"Well," the man says with a small smile. "That's not my personal best time for putting out a fire, but I trust you won't hold it against me."

Steven gapes. "Who are you even," he manages. They're at the far end of the property, nearly a half mile from the house, and not only did the man  _ keep up _ with Steven in those nice shoes of his, he dealt with being on fire with a horrifying efficiency.

The man's grin widens. "I'm Edmond LaValle," he introduces himself. "Your grandmother is my great aunt or so; I'm not well-versed in the family lore, unfortunately. That's more Addison's speed, she's definitely the clever one. Always has been."

"And what, you just _ happened _ to come into town after I almost killed everyone?"

"Don't be ridiculous; it would take a lot more than some varnish and a match to have burned down the house, way the weather's been. Ah." Edmond stops, looks a little sheepish. "Sorry about that. I'm a police detective, specializing in arson. I know more about fire than most people are comfortable with."

"So, what, my mom called the fire cop to deal with her fire-starting son?" Steven doesn't need this lecture from some relative he's never met before.

"Not… exactly. I've been given to understand that you could do with a change of scenery." Edmond rubs the back of his head. His shirt cuff is dark with soot. "If you're amenable, my sister Addison has room in her house. You could stay with her. Us, really, I'm there often enough that she wonders sometimes why I don't just move in-"

"I'm bisexual," Steven spits out because he'd rather have this stranger with his grandmother's last name shun him than get out of Looneyville and end up some place just as bad.

Edmond doesn't miss a beat. "I'm gay," he replies with a shrug. Steven gapes. "Since we're trading facts and all. Addison likes to vet anyone I talk to for more than five minutes. It's like she thinks _ she's _ the older sibling. I have twenty-six minutes on her; that absolutely makes me the older brother."

Steven doesn't know what to make of this. "You don't even know me," he gets out.

Edmond's face is kind, soft, and the expression does remind him of his grandmother, a little. "I don't need to know you to want to help you."

"I don't deserve help." Maybe the fire marshal is right and Steven deserves to be thrown into jail, made to pay for what he's done. For what he _is._ Firestarter, flawed, other words that Steven can't even think without flinching.

"It's maybe for the best that we don't always get what we deserve, then," Edmond replies, and gestures back towards the house. "Well. Shall we discuss the particulars with your parents?"

\---

Edmond drives through the night, stopping only once for gas and to get food for Steven. Steven barely picks at it. He's too wound up, too stressed, and it shouldn't have been so easy to fit his life into three suitcases. Shouldn't have been so easy for his parents to let him go.

(They make Rose stay. She vows never to speak to them again so long as they're going to be like this, and tells Steven she'll come see him when she has money for the bus. She doesn't understand Steven's being bi, but she doesn't care because she's thirteen minutes older than him and will always be his big sister.

Rose also threatens Edmond with extensive bodily harm if anything should ever happen to Steven. Edmond goes up in Steven's estimation when he somberly agrees to her terms.)

As if the last few days, few  _ weeks, _ weren't insane enough, Edmond takes Steven first to a coffee shop with more Pride decorations than Steven has ever seen in his _ life _ . Steven is too overwhelmed to really talk to the two baristas (both decked out in various pride flag colors) but he desperately wants to know them, to keep coming to this place where they can be who they are and not worry.

Edmond promises they'll come back tomorrow.

\---

Addison has a small house not far from the city center. It's painted blue like the sea, and the yard doesn't have grass, but a neat carpet of clover. Vines of roses wrap around the fence, and Steven smells herbs, probably from the box at one of the windows.

Addison herself is calm and serious and as kind as Edmond, and clearly the one in charge, between the two of them. "Hello, Steven," she greets him and doesn't do anything weird like try to shake his hand. "Do you want breakfast first, or to sleep? I can't imagine you got much sleep on the drive over."

"I know that's not a commentary on my driving," Edmond says as he kisses Addison on top of her head.

"It really is. Don't bring those shoes into my kitchen." Addison leads Steven to the kitchen in question, sits him at the island dominating the space, and sits across from him. "What questions do you have?"

"Why did you take me in?" Steven heard it from Edmond but he wants to hear it from Addison. He wants to make sure this is genuine.

"Because we wanted to. Edmond was the one to get you because I would have slapped your mother."

Steven gapes. Addison, like Edmond, is honest. Unlike Edmond, she doesn't pull her punches. He swallows and asks, "How long can I stay?"

"As long as you like. I arranged to have your school records transferred here as soon as Edmond confirmed you would be coming. It's going to be your senior year this fall; we can discuss your schedule and further education after you get settled in."

Steven shelves panicking about paying for college for another day. He can't deal with that right now. "House rules?"

"If you're not going to be home by dinner, you'll let me know. Cooking and cleaning are team efforts; even Edmond helps, and he doesn't _actually_ live here. Ten pm curfew on school nights, negotiable otherwise." Addison takes a sip of water. "If you want to light fires, you'll do it when Edmond or I can supervise. I assume you know by now that he's good with fire. I'm handy enough with a bucket of water or sand, depending on the situation. That seems enough to start with, I think."

Steven's head is reeling. He wonders where Edmond is, why he hasn't joined them. "I think I need to lie down."

Addison stands and gestures for him to follow. They exit the kitchen into the living room and Steven gets his answer as to where Edmond went. He's sitting on the couch, shoes in an untidy pile next to his feet, and is fast asleep. Addison spreads a large throw blanket over him - Edmond doesn't even twitch. Her expression is unspeakably fond. Steven follows her down a short hallway to a bedroom with green painted walls. Bed, desk, bookshelf half-full of history books. "This is yours," she tells him. "We can go shopping for whatever you need for it this weekend."

Steven barely manages to thank her before crawling into bed and passing right out.

\---

Steven wakes up to silence and the sun in his eyes. He sits up slowly, blinking against the light. On the bedside table is a note in looping cursive.

_ I've gone to work. Phone numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to eat whatever you want. If Edmond is still asleep when you get up, let him sleep. He's bloody awful at taking care of himself _

_ Addison _

Edmond is, in fact, still asleep when Steven makes his way out into the living room. He doesn't look to have moved at all in the intervening - Steven looks at the clock - five hours, and Steven isn't about to wake him, even if Addison hadn't explicitly told him not to do so. Looneyville to here was a hell of a drive.

Instead, Steven goes into the kitchen. It’s well-stocked but not intimidating, and Steven finds everything he needs to make pancakes in short order. By the time he has the first pancake in the pan, he can hear a snuffling noise and then movement in the living room. Steven makes six more pancakes before Edmond staggers into the kitchen, eyes still mostly closed, and sits at the kitchen island. Steven bites back a laugh. He keeps making pancakes, puts four on a plate and slides it across the island to where Edmond is practically asleep again. Edmond blinks a few times, bleary, and then looks at Steven. “You are a lifesaver,” Edmond tells him sincerely. He then  _ unhinges his jaw _ and eats half a pancake in one bite.

Steven stares in horror. “ _ Dude _ .”

“Hmmhgrh?” Edmond swallows and repeats, “Problem?”

“You just ate half a pancake in one bite, no syrup, no  _ nothing _ !” Steven hurriedly flips the last pancake out of the pan and onto his plate before turning off the stove.

The front door shuts. “Edmond inhales food first thing in the morning,” Addison calls. She pads into the kitchen on bare feet. “He doesn’t actually taste anything he eats until he's been up for a few hours. Hello, Steven. Edmond.”

“Pancakes?” Steven offers. He suddenly feels awkward standing in her kitchen surrounded by the mess of cooking materials. She’d said it was okay. He has to remind himself of that.

Addison smiles. “Thank you, yes.” She pulls out a carton of strawberries as Steven doles out a plate of pancakes for her, chops them up with a worrying speed, and dumps some of them on her pancakes before offering him the plate in turn. 

Steven takes some strawberries, and looks to Edmond, who has demolished his stack of pancakes in the minute Steven’s back was turned. “Uh. I can make more pancakes?”

Edmond looks far more awake now, and just smiles. “No, that was perfect,” he assures Steven before turning to Addison with a smile Steven can only describe as shit-eating. “I am glad to see that you’re eating something substantial.”

Addison rolls her eyes. “I’m  _ busy _ , Edmond, and I know that this is a surprise to you, but I do eat when you’re not around.”

“Ah, but are you eating  _ enough _ ?”

"Why don't we talk about how much sleep you've had in the last seventy-two hours instead?"

Steven ducks into his pancakes, lets their bickering wash over him, and tries not to miss his sister too much.

\---

Settling in with Addison (and Edmond, since he wasn’t kidding about half-living with his sister) feels easier than it should be. Addison gives Steven a house key and instructions on how to set the alarm and takes him on walks in the evenings when she comes back from work. Edmond brings Steven to Barrow’s Coffee nearly on a daily basis, and Steven becomes friends with Harry faster than he expected.

“The town isn’t big enough to have its own Pride festival or parade,” Harry tells him on his second week in town. Today she wears a rainbow bandana over her hair and a different bisexual pride shirt than the one she had the other day. “So we like to go all out here. Mr Barrow’s been doing it since before I worked here.”

Steven fiddles with his cup. Today, Harry’s made him a drink called The Caul, and it’s actually pretty good. He takes a breath. “And people don’t- they aren’t-?”

“Some do and some are,” Harry allows. “It’s just people, you know? But if they have a problem, they don’t make a fuss here. I think they’ve figured out, mostly, that it doesn't do any good to deliberately go to a place that offends them.”

Steven nods. Eventually, he says, "I'm bi. Home wasn't okay with it, so I wasn't okay with home. I guess- I don't know how they thought to have the LaValle twins take me in, but. That's how I'm here."

Harry nods. "We're glad to have you," she says. "I mean it."

Steven looks down. “Yeah,” he manages, and doesn’t say anything else.

\---

Steven is on tenterhooks. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the LaValle twins to decide that he’s too much to handle, too angry, too broken, too  _ other _ . He’s waiting for Harry and the other baristas to decide he isn’t worth knowing, waiting for school to start and for all his classmates to already know what he did, what he still desperately wants to do.

On the third day Steven opts to stay in his room instead of going to Barrow’s or around the town center or even to the  _ living room _ , Edmond comes over after Addison leaves for work. He’s in jeans and a ratty plaid and Steven has never seen him this dressed down before. “Come to the backyard with me,” Edmond says. It doesn’t sound like a request.

Steven goes, scuffing his feet like he’s twelve instead of seventeen but he can’t bring himself to care, not when caring means being vulnerable, being angry, being afraid that this is just another place that won’t keep him.

Addison’s backyard is a little bigger than the front. Flowers grow all along the fence, but the middle area, about ten feet around, is gravel, with a concrete circle in the middle. Edmond grabs a burlap sack and a paper bag from next to the back door, brings it to the circle. “Lighters and matches are all well and good,” Edmond tells Steven as he crouches in the gravel and upends the sack. Wood of varying shapes and sizes comes out, along with a bundle of dried grasses and a small metal box. “I’m going to teach you how to start a fire without them.”

Edmond starts by having Steven the concrete is clear of loose leaves or grasses, and bringing the hose within easy reach in case of accidents. They build a circle of gravel stones, then Edmond shows Steven how to set up a small bed of grass. “We’ll try making a fire with just sticks next time, but this is flint,” he says and opens the metal box. “Definitely useful to have in your emergency kit.”

Edmond explains how to use it, and has Steven give it a try. Getting the shavings into the bed of grass is easy enough, but it takes a few tries to make a spark, and a little longer to get the grass to catch fire. Edmond starts feeding the discarded leaves and other grasses into the fire, then talks Steven through adding twigs and the larger pieces of wood. Finally, Edmond sits back, satisfied. “Good job,” he tells Steven with a smile.

Steven tentatively smiles back. He feels a little more settled now, less like one wrong move will ruin everything. Edmond looks at the fire. “When you understand something, it’s easier to make it work for you,” he murmurs. “Take fire, for example. I know how it starts, how it works. How it  _ burns _ . And the family knows this, even if some of them aren’t… too pleased with how I got my start. That’s how Tante Adelaide knew to call me. Because if anyone knew what to do with fire, it was me.” He looks at Steven with the ghost of a smile. “You’re not the only one with a penchant for destruction.”

Steven looks at the flint in his hands. “It feels like the only thing I can control. Like everything is too big and too much, and I’m just going to disappoint everyone anyway and they’re going to leave, so why not make it on my terms? Like, if they’re already going to be upset because I’m  _ me _ , I may as well burn stuff. I can’t control their feelings, but I can control the fire.” He huffs. “Except, you know, the one on the porch. And your jacket.”

“Don’t worry about the jacket; Addison has threatened to burn it before, too. You've done her a favour, really.” Edmond reaches over and picks up the brown paper bag that has sat off to the side this whole time. He pulls out a box of graham crackers, a few bars of chocolate, and an excessively large bag of marshmallows. “Now, if you’ll indulge me, I have been craving s'mores all day. Shall we?”

Edmond rambles on, some story about Grandmother Spider, and it somehow shifts to another spider tale, this one about Ananse, and then about the trickster Coyote. Steven listens, occasionally adding his two cents, but is mostly content making sure his marshmallows are perfectly crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside. He looks at the fire they made together, and knows they’ll extinguish it together, too, and that Addison’s house won’t burn.

He feels like everything might be okay after all.


End file.
